


Now.

by raelee514



Series: Breath and Motion [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens after they get of the closet in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1621331">Breath and Motion </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Now.

**Author's Note:**

> Was written eons ago from [ Kink_Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) prompt: Wildcard, First Time.

.Cas, fucking licked my ear, Dean thought for the millionth time since it happened. I came in my pants! He’d never come in his pants before, from just grinding, licking and a few messy kisses against skin; skin that wasn’t even below the neck. Dean realized he and Castiel were forming a relationship that was a bit beyond normal friendship. They spoke without words, they knew the subtle turns of facial expression that gave away inner thoughts. Dean just hadn’t been aware how much he wanted to fuck Castiel until Castiel licked him. 

Dean wanted to think it was because he hadn’t been laid since Jamie, a few weeks after Castiel pulled him from Hell. There just hadn’t been time, at least that was what he was trying to tell himself. But they’d saved the world months ago and he’d been turning down woman left and right -- he was pretty sure if a guy had come onto him he’d have turned him down flat as well. But Cas. Dean’s cock twitched thinking about Castiel’s clumsy licks, the messy kisses against his neck and jaw, just how hard he’d gotten trapped in that damn closet -- and shit it’d been a miracle they hadn’t been caught by the guy just outside the fucking door watching the Discovery Channel. 

It’d been a few days since then. They’d found the witches, they’d finished the case, and every time Dean looked at Castiel he was sure he was blushing like some virgin teenager who’d just copped their first feel. Castiel seemed to be avoiding eye contact too but Dean could feel his eyes on him. Castiel’s stares hadn’t been leveled human by becoming human. Sam was noticing something too, kept giving the two of them weird looks, Dean could see his stupid big brain whirring under his big forehead, wondering just why they were acting so weird. 

Something had to give, and Castiel was a virgin, their closet exploits being his first sexual experience. It was up to Dean to get them fucking, like he was pretty sure they both wanted. So first thing first, he had to get rid of Sam. 

“Sam, outside,” he barked, his voice sounding way to rough to his ears, like he’d already had his mouth wrapped around Castiel’s cock. Dean swallowed hard because he felt like he maybe wanted it too much -- he hoped Castiel was just as crazed because if he wasn’t -- Shit. 

Both Sam and Castiel looked up from where they were both studying some old book on demons that Bobby had asked them to pick up from some hermit, who had just shoved the book at them through a crack in the door. Dean lived a weird life, he thought not for he first or last time. It was Castiel’s eye he caught though, not his brother’s; he forced himself to keep it, to show Castiel what he was planning. Castiel’s tongue poked out and licked his chapped lips. It shouldn’t have been that hot, Dean thought, but, fuck him, it was. 

“Why?” Sam asked and just once Dean wished that wasn’t his brother’s favorite word. 

“Just go outside, Sam,” Dean barked, then walked out of the room to force his brother to follow him. 

Dean beelined it to his car, leaning against the comforting hardness of it, crossing his arms in front of him. Sam took his damn time getting outside and then was there, staring at him, bitchface at the ready. “What, Dean?”

“Get lost,” Dean said, sounding a lot ruder than he’d meant too, but really what choice did he have. “I mean, go out, Sam, pick up a girl, have some fun,” he said trying to sound nicer. “We’ve been working hard the last couple of weeks,” he added lamely, remembering that was how he meant to start his plea.

Sam’s sour expression upped itself to its highest level. “Why?”

“Sam, come on, it’d do you good to get laid,” Dean said, thinking, I need to fuck Cas, now. 

Sam sighed. “Not really, you know I just don’t...”

“Sam, fuck, just leave!” Dean said, hoping like hell it didn’t sound as whiny to Sam as it did to him. 

Sam’s expression shifted from bitchface, to little-brother-has-ammunition glee in a millisecond and Dean wished the hole to the Pit would open up underneath him. “You mean, it would do you good to get laid -- by Cas.”

Dean hated the heat he felt flaming his cheeks but there was no denying it, damn it. “Yeah, okay, fine, yes. Go away, Sammy.”

Sam nodded, laughing a bit. “Okay, since you asked so nicely,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Let me just shower and change, then I’ll be out of your way.”

“Thank you,” Dean said, a bit too adamantly.

Sam leveled him with a gaze. “Wow, you really, Cas?”

“Shut up, Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam laughed turning and going into the motel. 

Dean slumped a bit against the Impala, feeling impatient, antsy, and too turned on at just the thought of what he had planned for the night.

 

~~

Dean stared at the motel door, for a good few minutes after Sam walked out through it. They were alone, him and Castiel, they were alone. Castiel was sitting at the table, the damn demon book open in front of him, but he wasn’t look at the book. He was looking at Dean questioningly with that damn stare of his that made it impossible not to know his eyes were blue. Big, wide and blue, so fucking blue, Dean didn’t notice eyes, he noticed...other things, he noticed strong arms and a great ass when it was a guy. But here he was, staring into Castiel’s damn eyes, licking his lips and knowing his palms were sweaty because he was twitchy and nervous. Last time had been -- not planned, it’d just happened, it had been Castiel’s fault. Man he wanted to make this all Castiel’s fault, but he wanted him and he knew what the hell to do. Castiel didn’t. 

 

“So, uh, you’ve died twice, still a virgin, and well -- I made you a promise once,” Dean stammered until his voice died out. The line had sounded much more smooth in his head. 

Castiel stood up, closed the space between them until they were standing nose to nose, personal space no longer existing for Dean. Castiel’s stare hardened, penetrating, searching and then Castiel smiled. “Been wanting to taste you again,” he whispered, he fucking whispered it in that damn voice of his, rough as a dirt road under the Impala, it made heat pool in Dean’s groin, made his throat dry, made him realize he wanted this just a bit too much. 

“Was thinking this time, we don’t come in our pants, Cas,” he said, smiling due to nerves more than anything else. “I...”

And Castiel was kissing him on the mouth, his chapped lips against Dean’s and Dean’s mind went blank auto pilot taking over. He plunged his tongue into Castiel’s mouth, thrusting inside, against Castiel’s tongue, tasting the coffee and bagel Castiel had eaten earlier. Tasting Castiel, something that was all things earthy which oddly didn’t surprise Dean about the former angel. Dean groaned, pulled apart for breath, felt Castiel’s ragged breath against his mouth. “Fuck, Cas,” he said, pulling at the tie, loose around Castiel’s neck, thankful that Castiel had taken off the trench coat. “Get off these, fucking, clothes.”

Castiel grabbed the hem of Dean’s T-shirt, pulled it up and muttered, “You too.” They fumbled, undressing each other, trying to keep kissing, tasting, Castiel licked him again, up his neck, behind his ear. The way his tongue made Dean feel, he was almost sure he’d come in his jeans again until he realized he wasn’t wearing them.

In fact he realized that he was on his ass, on his bed with his jeans being ripped from his ankles by a very naked Castiel. He didn’t know when the hell had all that happened, somewhere between the kiss and Castiel’s tongue behind his ear making his eyes roll into the back of his head and him afraid of coming on the spot. He’d never known his ear was such an erogenous zone before, come to think of it. Dean swallowed hard and met Castiel’s eyes, and Castiel looked as lost he was as he crawled onto the bed, half over Dean, half next to him and bent his head down to lean his forehead against Dean’s. 

They breathed together for a long moment, Dean trying to calm his frayed nerves, trying to remember his grand seduction plan but it felt flown out of the window. He didn’t feel like a man who’d just been celibate for far longer than he ever had before, he felt like he’d never done this before. Staring at Castiel, meeting his gaze he had to push away the overwhelming feeling that maybe he never had done this before. It was all too much to think about. He lifted his hand up, ran the pad of his thumb over Castiel’s bottom lip, and shook his head. “I had a plan,” he laughed. 

Castiel smiled, his small wry smile, and tilted his head. “Yes?”

“Yeah, we’d kiss, I’d push you on the bed, undress you, show you the joy of a great fuck.” Dean laughed. “How did you get us undressed so fast, you haven’t gone out and gotten laid without telling me have you?” The question was meant to sound light, to sound teasing, only it didn’t. It came out dark, possessive, afraid the answer was yes. He swallowed but refused to look away from Castiel. 

“Only want you, been waiting, been hoping,” Castiel said, his cheeks flushing. He looked down, his eyes falling on Dean’s neck and then leaned down and licked a stripe up toward Dean’s ear again. “Taste so good, Dean, I thought you said nothing was better than pie.”

“Uh, I don’t think I ever said pie was better than sex -- well, maybe,” Dean said, leaning his head back, giving Castiel better access to his neck. “I want to fuck, Cas, we need to fuck.”

Castiel, broke away from his neck, brushed his lips over Dean’s. Dean tried to grab him into a deeper kiss but Castiel pulled away. “Show me how.”

“Fuck yeah,” Dean whispered back, leaning up on his elbows. “My jacket, left pocket,” he said, his hand pointing toward his leather jacket hung over the back of a chair. Castiel moved, fluid grace, Dean thought, his eyes taking in the lean build, soft skin covering lean muscle, hip bones, and Castiel’s half-hard cock. He moved up further on his elbows, staring and then Castiel was standing right in front of him, lubricant in his hand but Dean could only see his cock. 

He moved fast, he was off the bed and his hands dug into Castiel’s hips, then his knees hit the floor, his mouth moving over the head of the cock. Castiel growled something not English, something probably Enochian, causing Dean to moan against the skin in his mouth. His tongue flicked up the underside as he moved down further, swallowing more. Castiel had his hands in Dean’s hair, pulling and pushing, Dean could sense Castiel’s split needs -- push Dean further down, fuck his mouth or pull him back, tease it out. Castiel didn’t know what he wanted, yet, just that he liked. 

Dean closed his eyes, breathed in the unique musky scent of Castiel, tasted his pre-come on his tongue and knew what he wanted, knew he’d never wanted anything else more. It hadn’t been the plan, but nothing had gone to plan. It had all been better and this would be too, Dean was certain. He moved his mouth off Castiel’s cock with a loud, obscenely awesome pop. 

“Slick up your fingers,” he ordered, his voice rough from sucking Castiel. He moved back onto the bed, his head on the pillows, splaying open his legs, titling up his hips, displaying his asshole. “You’re going to fuck me,” he said, having to grab the base of his own erection, he wasn’t going to come at the thought, fuck that, he was going to come at the action. 

Castiel moved onto the bed, awkwardly getting close to Dean and fumbled with the tube as his eyes sought Dean’s. His eyes were wide, ready to pop out the way they’d been at the brothel with Chastity. Dean leaned up and grabbed Castiel’s wrist to pull him down. Castiel let Dean pull him, and Dean kissed him with what he hoped held more reassurance than lust. He broke apart with ragged breath nonetheless, Castiel’s own moist and heavy breath hitting his lips. They pressed foreheads, again, met each other’s gaze, and Dean licked his lips at the dilated pupils he saw staring back at him, at the flush on Castiel’s cheeks. He ran his thumb across the stubble on Castiel’s cheek, loving the rough feel of it against his palm, liking how it felt rough but Castiel’s gaze was softer than it had ever been. It showed Castiel’s nerves, his fear, his virginity -- the fact that this man had once been an angel. 

“It’s okay, Angel, going to talk you through it,” he said, wondering where the soft tone of voice he had came from. “It’s been, uh,” Dean realized it’d been since before Hell but there was no reason to dwell. “It’s been nearly forever since I’ve done this, feels new to me too, Cas.” He took the lubricant that Castiel still had in his hand, flicked open the top and smiled when he saw he still had Castiel’s wrist wrapped in his hold. He pulled the hand to him, kissed the fingers, then squeezed the slippery liquid onto the fingers. Long, slender fingers Dean couldn’t help picturing playing a piano or guitar, just as often as he fantasized them bruising his hips, his forearm and especially his shoulder. 

“Going to have to get me ready, good thing is getting ready is pretty hot on its own,” Dean explained, as he guided Castiel’s hand down to where it needed to go, let go of the wrist and guided the middle finger to his entrance, before letting go and squeezing more lubricant onto himself and the finger. He closed his eyes at how cool the liquid felt, he was so wrapped up in the body heat between him and Castiel. 

“Don’t want to hurt you?” Castiel said, though he was staring at his finger, at Dean’s entrance, Dean could feel him trembling everywhere their bodies touched. 

“Sorry, man, it will a bit but it’s good, it’s pleasure-pain, Cas, it’s good.”

Castiel bit his bottom lip; Dean ran his hands down Castiel’s back trying to reassure while at the same time giving into the urge to touch. “Come on.”

At the order, at his begging, Dean wasn’t sure what it really was from him, Castiel pushed his finger in. Dean arched up into the pressure, his eyes closing, his breath coming out in harsh pants. It’d been too long since he’d been filled and it being Castiel, he had to admit that made it all the better. Castiel knew him better than anyone, he knew the good and the horrible about Dean and he still wanted him. Dean opened his eyes and met Castiel’s eyes, suddenly wondering if this was real. How did this man, this angel, want him?

Castiel had an intense look on his face, his focus concentrated on his finger, on Dean’s asshole. Flush cheeks, his uncanny see-through-you gaze on full throttle, all focused on one action. His tongue was poking out between his lips, Dean groaned at the sight, grabbed the base of his erection again and pushed against he finger. “Add another finger,” he ordered. 

With a lick of his lips Castiel pushed another finger inside of Dean, slowly, watching with that focused stare. Dean watched Castiel study his work, felt every millimeter of his finger push inside of him. “Thrust them,” he whispered harshly.

He watched Castiel’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, he looked up through his eyelashes at Dean. Dean nodded, answering the unsure gaze. “Do it, Angel,” he said without even knowing he’d said it out loud, thinking he’d just sent it with his eyes. 

Castiel started to move the two fingers inside of him, Dean arched off the bed, Castiel did the same motion again, started to experiment, watch Dean’s reactions. Then Castiel hit Dean’s prostate and Dean swore, called out to God, arched up, pushed against the fingers. “A third, Cas, now!”

As Castiel slowed his thrusting, Dean whimpered, but the third finger pushed in and there was that burn, that pitch-perfect burn of pain that Dean knew he might love too much. He pushed into it, eyes rolling back as Castiel started to thrust again hitting his prostate and he felt the white flash of pain-pleasure. “Fuck, Cas, just like that” Dean moaned through his teeth. 

“Beautiful, beautiful,” Castiel said, moving over Dean, touching his lips to Dean’s jaw with messy kisses, and wet licks. “Dean...,” he groaned out, sounding undone, Castiel’s erection against Dean’s skin, Castiel thrusting his fingers and pressing down. 

“Stop,” Dean groaned, almost not believing it. It’d be good, it’d be so good just like this, he thought, but he wanted to take it all the way, no half-assing it. Castiel stopped, stilled completely except for his breathing. Castiel pinned him with his eyes, looking almost angry and confused. 

“Lube on your cock,” Dean grunted back, shoving his hands into Castiel’s hair in what he hoped was somewhat reassuring. “We don’t want to fall apart until you’re in me,” he explained further when Castiel didn’t move. 

And fingers were suddenly not tight inside Dean. He whimpered when it happened, Castiel gave him an apologetic look. “You said...”

“I did, I know,” Dean said, licking his lips, watching as Castiel slicked up his erection. “Want you now,” Dean said.

Castiel nodded and was at Dean’s entrance. “Dean?”

“Slow, Angel, slow....but not too slow.”

Castiel pushed into him, the pain-pleasure burn the best Dean had ever felt, he was sure of it. Castiel eyes were wide with shock, and he bent down to lick Dean’s neck, over and over again in the same spot. Dean pushed his hands into Castiel’s hair again, his fingers at the nape of his neck and started to talk, “So good, Cas. Feel so right inside me. Don’t stop, it’s good, so good it’s right.” His words were on repeat, over and over until Castiel was all the way in. Then their foreheads touched, eyes searching and Dean bit his lip. “Do it,” he said as he wrapped his legs around Castiel’s waist and pulled him in deeper. 

Castiel latched his mouth on to whatever part of Dean he could reach as he fucked into him, Dean moved into Castiel thrusts, clenching and unclenching his leg muscles, his anus muscles into and out of the rhythm they built up, his hands in Castiel’s hair, nails scrapping on Castiel’s back, fingers digging into random muscles. They both yelled, moaned and groaned affirmatives and assurances. Dean came from Castiel’s thrusts and his erection hitting Castiel’s stomach only seconds before Castiel let go.

They were sweaty but breathing slow and deep, foreheads against each other, eyes staring at the other when they finally reconnected with their brains and could have actual thought. Dean ran his thumb over Castiel lips, Castiel licked it with his tongue and they both smiled. 

“I believe sex is better than pie,” Castiel said serious and pure, despite a voice made rougher from sexual exertion. “I think it’s because you taste better than pie,” he added, licking Dean’s lips open. Dean kissed back, murmuring something that was agreement, that was a promise for more because as mellow and sleepy as he felt right then, Dean knew for sure now, he was addicted to Castiel tasting him.


End file.
